Post Traumatic
by pseud0zombie
Summary: Isaac didn't escape the Sprawl unscathed. In the aftermath of the second Necromorph outbreak, he faces his demons once more... but he isn't alone anymore. Some spoilers, mild Ellie/Isaac


Isaac could clearly hear himself breathing, the sound of his shallow inhalations magnified a thousand times by his helmet. The blood rushed through his ears like a frothing river, pounding against his perspiring temples.

He squeezed his eyes shut a few times, trying to clear away the horrible grittiness that had settled in them, but no matter how long he kept them closed, they stayed dry. Besides, he didn't **want** to keep them closed. He had to see them, or else they could sneak up on him and—

He derailed the thought before it could make any headway, finding that thinking of what might happen only made him panic. Despite his efforts, he could feel that tight ache in his chest, and felt, rather than heard, his heart start pounding again. His panting kept pace with his galloping heart easily.

His suit's climate-control system responded to his rise in body temperature by circulating cold air throughout itself. His visor stopped fogging and a small measure of the sweat on his skin dried, leaving him feeling cold and clammy.

The narrow hallway seemed to press in tighter. Every step echoed like a gunshot; every breath was a scream against the reverberating walls. The door at the end of the hall loomed closer and closer, seeming ominous and welcoming all at once. He didn't want to be in this dim and cramped hallway, its walls painted with still-damp smears of blood; at the same time, it was quiet, maybe even—dare he say it?—safe.

"_Don't be foolish, Isaac,"_ a disembodied female voice hissed in his ear, _"Nowhere is safe. You'll always be hiding. Every waking moment of your life will be spent glancing over your shoulder, watching."_

"Be quiet," he muttered, tightening his grip on his plasma cutter. "You're not real." Around him, the room took on a sickly yellowish hue. The walls seemed to shudder and twitch, as though alive. Something crawled around inside his skull, making his stomach churn unhappily.

"_You don't sound so convinced any more,"_ the voice cooed. _"You don't believe that yourself, so why do you keep saying it?"_

"Leave me alone."

"_But that's not what you want, is it Isaac? That's why you can't face me, isn't it?"_

"You're not real, you're a figment of my imagination."

"_But you still talk to me, don't you? Because deep down inside, you **know**."_

"I don't know what you're talking about," he snapped, but Isaac did know.

"_You're never going to let go, Isaac. I'll always be here... scratching at the door... whispering in your ear..."_

A flicker of movement caught his eye and he flinched away, bringing the plasma cutter up. There was nothing but the door. Nothing.

"_Make us whole, Isaac..."_

The room faded into the dim blue tone of the remaining lights. The walls spasmed and went still. The scratching stopped. Isaac allowed himself a small shudder before passing his hand over the hologram, opening the dreaded door.

He entered the room with his plasma cutter raised, its blue lasers flicking from shadow to shadow, trying to find any signs of movement. The dark corners of the room seemed to stretch out its spindly fingers, beckoning him closer, closer.

A bead of sweat crawled down his temple and disappeared somewhere in the jawline of his helmet. His heart slammed against his chest like a madman in a cage, screaming to be let out. He could **feel** the shadows reaching out for the struggling organ.

They could hear it flailing, they knew it wanted out... they wanted to release it... wanted to tear into it like animals, painting the walls with fresh blood, drawing those horrible **symbols** that wouldn't stop scrolling before his bone-dry eyes.

The Creature scratched at the inside of his skull, begging for release.

Isaac shook his head vigorously, as though to rattle away the shadows, rattle away the symbols, rattle away the scratching, slithering creature inside his head.

"_You can't get rid of me, Isaac,"_ Nicole purred, her voice carrying strange undertones that made it sound as though a small crowd of people were whispering the words along with her. _"You **made me.**"_

"Sh—shut up," he stammered. "You're not real."

"_You're starting to sound like a broken record..."_

The walls gave a little twitch, yellowish-orange light slithering along in the wake of the ripples. Isaac gritted his teeth and forced himself to pay attention to the task at hand... only he couldn't remember what it was.

He flipped his wrist, palm facing downwards to activate his locator, but it just beeped in a sullen sort of way, flashing twice.

Crap.

"_Where are you going, Isaac?"_

He ignored her and marched to one of the doors across the room, slapping the opening mechanism with more force than was strictly necessary.

The room beyond was completely shrouded in darkness.

The shadows clawed at him, shrieking, their long, sharp fingers digging into the seams of his armour and drawing bright lines of blood on his arms. Isaac threw himself backwards with a hoarse yell of fear and shock, landing hard on his back. The shadows hooked their spindly claws on the ridges of his armour and dragged him, kicking and screaming, back to the doorway.

"No, no no **no!** Get **away from me! GET AWAY!"**

The door closed with a tremendous _clang,_ severing the shadows in a spray of black fluid. They twitched and flailed on the floor, squirting inky blood with each wild convulsion.

"_Where are you going, Isaac?"_ She jeered again.

"I don't know," he muttered, picking himself up of the floor.

"_What are you running from?"_

"I don't know."

"_You don't even know why you're fighting any more, do you? You just fight for the sake of it, **don't you**?"_

"No—I don't know!" The walls gave a violent shudder. He could feel that horrible, squirming, clawing sensation on the walls of his skull again.

"_That's all you ever did, was argue and fight and push me to do things that I **never **wanted to do!"_

"Shut up," he growled.

"_You just wanted to get rid of me—is that why you pushed me to get this job?"_

"Stop it, you're not real."

"_You killed me Isaac! You killed me!"_

"SHUT UP!" He roared, and swung his plasma cutter at the wall. It connected with a loud clang, opening up a long, jagged gash in the metal. It slowly began to leak yellowed pus, like a torn blister or abscess. The fluid slithered and writhed across the wall, covering it in a sickly yellow film.

The pus clotted and thickened as the cut began to weep blood. Veins seemed to spread outward from the gash, pulsing in time with a heartbeat deep within the wall. Soon, the entire wall was covered in a carpet of bloody organic matter.

Something inside the fleshy substance squirmed, distorting it and pulling at the jagged edges. It hissed and thrashed, opening up a fresh cut that seeped more of the yellow fluid. The whole room was saturated in orange and yellow hues, the floors covered in splatters of fresh blood from the wall.

_It's not real,_ he told himself, backing away from the writhing wall of flesh. _You're hallucinating, this can't be real. Walls don't bleed, they just don't..._ But they **did.** One was bleeding him right in front of him, and moving as though it had a life of its own...

His stomach twisted around itself when a white-clad arm, the cloth soaked in blood and pus, slid out of the first tear in the wall. A shoulder followed it, and then a blond head, and then a woman's torso... Nicole tumbled free of the grotesque wall of flesh. Her face was streaked with blood and other unidentifiable things, her eyes wild and cruel.

"_Make us whole,"_ she hissed, staggering to her feet. Her eyes glowed with muted yellow light. _"Make us whole, Isaac..."_

"No, stop it!"

"_Isaac..."_ The glow brightened.

"You aren't her! You're not real!"

"_Make us whole, Isaac..."_ She opened her mouth and it shined with that horrible yellow light, blinding him.

"**YOU AREN'T NICOLE!" **He bellowed, slapping his hands over the sides of his helmet, as though to cover his ears.

"_MAKE US WHOLE!"_ She shrieked, lunging.

"**Isaac!"**

He screamed and shot to his feet, backing away from the hand that was clutching at his shoulder. "Get away from me!" He shouted, batting away the invading hands. "You aren't real! You aren't real! You aren't her!"

"Isaac, calm down!"

Someone grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a hug, cradling his head against the side of their neck. He made to push away, but stopped when he saw the long, soft brown hair, tousled by sleep. Not short. Not blond. Not splattered with blood and god-knows-what-else.

"Ellie?"

"You're all right, Isaac," she whispered, shifting to hold him tighter. "It's okay. The Ishimura is gone—the Sprawl is gone. We got out, Isaac. We're okay."

"Oh god, Ellie, I—,"

"Shh, I know."

She held him close as the tears started to flow, sobs wracking his frame. Ellie felt the scars on his neck, scars that extended up to the base of his skull, where he'd scratched bloody furrows into his skin; trying to get "it" out of his head. She felt the spot on his shoulder where a fracture in his collarbone and a hasty resetting had left it permanently bent at a mildly awkward angle. And she saw on his bare back, the collection of scars from innumerable burns, contusions, lacerations, and puncture wounds had marred the skin.

Ellie murmured soothing nonsense into his ears and gently petted the back of his head, waiting for the tears to stop, so that he could fall once more into an exhausted slumber—a slumber that may or may not be interrupted by a second, more terrible nightmare.

It was a curse they both had to bear, together.

"I'm here, Isaac," she murmured, gently guiding him back down onto the bed. "I'm always here."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This is just a quick drabble I cooked up tonight as a birthday present to me (I turned eighteen today). I only recently completed Dead Space 2, but ever since I did, the idea of writing a fanfiction (even just a one-shot) for it has kind of... burrowed its way into my brain. So I decided to fart this out really quickly. I may go back and edit it, but for now, this is what you get.**

**Decided to write a bit of Ellie/Isaac fluff at the end, not really to lighten the mood, because it's depressing fluff, but... I dunno. I felt like giving their relationship a little attention- after all, someone's got to take care of our favorite, much-abused protagonist.  
><strong>


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